My eyes droop while you praise, because the noisy morning dazzles and the joyous songs of the merry birds strengthen and awe my soul. At another time my ear would eagerly drink in my lovely friend's sweet talk here in the quiet, dark coolness of the evening. JULIUS It is not vain fantasy. My longing for you is constant and everlastingly unsatisfied. LUCINDA Be it what it may, you are the object in which my being finds peace. JULIUS Holy peace, dear friend, I have found only in that longing. LUCINDA And I have found that holy longing in this beautiful peace. JULIUS Alas, that the garish light is permitted to lift the veil that so concealed those flames, that the play of the senses was fain to cool and assuage the burning soul. LUCINDA And so sometimes the cold and serious day will annihilate the warm night of life, when youth flies by and I renounce you, even as you once more greatly renounced great love. JULIUS Oh, that I might show you my unknown friend, and her the wonder of my wondrous happiness. LUCINDA You love her still and will love her forever, though forever mine. That is the wonder of your wondrous heart. JULIUS No more wondrous than yours. I see you, clasped against my breast, playing with your Guido's locks, while we twain in brotherly union adorn your serious brow with eternal wreaths of joy. LUCINDA Let rest in darkness, bring not forth into light, that which blooms sacredly in the quiet depths of the heart. JULIUS Where may the billow of life be sporting with the impulsive youth whom tender feeling and wild fate vehemently dragged into the harsh world? LUCINDA Uniquely transfigured, the pure image of the noble Unknown shines in the blue sky of your pure soul. JULIUS Oh eternal longing! But surely the futile desire, the vain glare, of the day will grow dim and go out, and there will be forever more the restful feeling of a great night of love. LUCINDA Thus does the woman's heart in my ardent breast feel, when I am allowed to be as I am. It longs only for your longing, and is peaceful where you find peace. DALLYINGS OF THE FANTASY Life itself, the delicate child of the gods, is crowded out by the hard, loud preparations for living, and is pitifully stifled in the loving embrace of apelike Care. To have purposes, to carry out purposes, to interweave purposes artfully with purposes for a purpose: this habit is so deeply rooted in the foolish nature of godlike man, that if once he wishes to move freely, without any purpose, on the inner stream of ever-flowing images and feelings, he must actually resolve to do it and make it a set purpose.